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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181150">The Last Hell Series</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myliaa/pseuds/Myliaa'>Myliaa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:56:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myliaa/pseuds/Myliaa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written immediately before and immediately after Game 6.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Before Game 6.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why won’t you just <em> stop?!</em>”</p>
<p>A bat flies through Ren Morin, the projection flicking and sputtering briefly before reforming. The piece of wood clatters to the ground behind him, echoing throughout the locker room.</p>
<p>“Nagomi, please. We know this is hard for you all, but we thought you of all people we could—”</p>
<p>“Could <em> what</em>, Ren?” Nagomi Nava growls, staring at her closed locker. “Could get me on board with this crap? On board with letting you all go?!”</p>
<p>Ren dips his head. “Please. You must understand. It’s the Tiger way. We—”</p>
<p>“I don’t give a damn!”</p>
<p>Silence falls between them. Shadow swirls around Nagomi’s face, the many eyes of the darkened left side closing independently of her own. Her jaw twitches as her expression shifts, seemingly at war with herself. The moment stretches on, for ten seconds. Fifteen. Thirty.</p>
<p>“I don’t give a damn,” she says again. “I don’t give a damn what you say. I don’t give a damn what Friend says. I don’t give a damn about what your team wants. I don’t give a damn about the championship, the ILB, <em> anything! </em>”</p>
<p>She tears her gaze away from her locker and stares at Ren, eyes full of fire.</p>
<p>“I don’t give a damn, Ren,” she repeats. “You think I don’t understand. That I don’t get it. That, if only you can talk to me, I’ll see your side, and convince the others, and that we’ll somehow be okay with this.”</p>
<p>“I—”</p>
<p>“But guess what? That ain’t how we work!”</p>
<p>Ren blinks in surprise as Nagomi hurls her fist at her locker. The metal caves inwards, straining at the hinges. Silently, she removes her fist from the crater, blood already beginning to drip from her knuckles.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Ren says. “I thought that, since we’ve both been here from the start…”</p>
<p>“...why don’t you try?” she whispers. </p>
<p>“Try what?”</p>
<p>“Understanding.”</p>
<p>Ren raises his hackles and growls. “I understand loss, Nagomi. We all do. We’ve lost many, and though we ceaselessly move forward, we still feel the pain. How could we not?”</p>
<p>“No... I don’t think you do,” Nagomi says. “You’re always ‘Never Look Back’ this, ‘Never Look Back’ that — and I know it’s just a motto. I know it still hurts. But you…”</p>
<p>She sits down on a bench, grabbing a towel and pressing it to her bleeding hand as she looks away from the tiger.</p>
<p>“...you still try to win.”</p>
<p>“That’s—”</p>
<p>“You always try to win, no matter what! No matter who you lose, you’re out there, pushing for another championship, and another, and for ascen—”</p>
<p>Her throat catches, and she slowly closes her mouth. As the silence drags on, Ren speaks.</p>
<p>“We’re Tigers, Nagomi. We know — we always knew what it might cost,” he says. The anger from earlier has left his eyes. “But it doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“How can it not? Do you all <em> want </em> to go? Is that it?”</p>
<p>Ren shakes his head. “No. No, no, we don’t want to go. We don’t want to leave you all.”</p>
<p>“Then why do you do it?”</p>
<p>Nagomi hiccups slightly, and draws a shuddering breath. “Rhys Trombone. Velasquez Meadows. Emmett Internet. Randy Marijuana. Incinerated.”</p>
<p>Ren’s ears flatten against the side of his head at the third name.</p>
<p>“Alexander Horne. Alaynabella Hollywood. Malik Romayne. Far from their home.”</p>
<p>“Nagomi—”</p>
<p>“Landry Violence. Moody Cookbook. Mclaughlin Scorpler. Yazmin Mason. Frasier Shmurmgle. Incinerated! Jessica Telephone, Fish Summer, Paula Turnip, no longer there to meet us every Hell Series!”</p>
<p>“Nagomi, I—” </p>
<p>“The Sunbeams family has been <em> shattered </em>, Ren!” Nagomi shouts as she gets to her feet. “So has yours! I remember every incineration, every feedback!”</p>
<p>“We all—” </p>
<p>“I remember every time one of my family was ripped away!” Nagomi says, taking a step towards Ren. “And I remember every time yours broke a little more apart, too. You wanna know why?!”</p>
<p>She takes another step towards the tiger, and tilts her head back, staring into his eyes.</p>
<p>“Because you’re our family too, and no matter what happened—” Nagomi’s voice drops to a low whisper, shaking with anger and grief. “No matter what, we’d always have each other.”</p>
<p>Ren Morin is quiet. His tail twitches back and forth before he controls it, steadying the projection and ceasing his body language. The moment stretches on. A crow pokes its head in the locker room, fixes its beady eyes on the two, and quickly hops out. Voices pass by the door, growing louder and then fading. A pipe drips somewhere, each drop of water severing the silence for but a moment.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Ren says, in the quietest voice Nagomi has ever heard from him. “But we can’t stop now.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Nagomi breathes, her voice barely above a whisper.</p>
<p>“Because as much as we don’t want to leave anyone behind, this is our way of moving forward,” Ren says. “For ourselves, and to honor those gone.”</p>
<p>Nagomi shakes her head. </p>
<p>“We’re tigers, Nagomi. You said it yourself. We never look back.”</p>
<p>“Fine.”</p>
<p>Ren’s ears flick as he tilts his head.</p>
<p>“Fine,” Nagomi repeats. “Then we’ll just have to stop you.”</p>
<p>“I—”</p>
<p>“Get out of my sight.”</p>
<p>Ren begins to speak, then closes his jaw and dips his head one last time. “As you wish. See you in Game 6.”</p>
<p>The projection vanishes and Nagomi is alone once more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After Game 6.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The roar of the crowd fades to a dull whine as Nagomi’s head as she slumps to the ground in the outfield. Weakly, she looks to the scoreboard, and the text scrolling rapidly across it.</p><p>[SUNBEAMS LAP TIGERS, GAIN 2 WINS: SUNBEAMS TO ADVANCE TO FINALS]</p><p>The rest of the team is dogpiling Lars. Lone Star Lars, once the worst pitcher in the league, now at the bottom of cheering and crying Sunbeams as they celebrate their victory. Some Tigers are charging into the pile too — laughing, smiling, tears of  joy in their eyes.</p><p>As Nagomi looks around, she sees that even the newer Tigers with their hats held over their hearts had sad smiles on their faces. They were afraid too, she realizes. This was what their determined gazes hid, throughout the six brutal games of what was supposed to be a best of five set. </p><p>“You did it,” a synthetic voice sounds behind her, complex low tones roiling together and allowing Ren Morin’s words to be heard. “You stopped us.”</p><p>Nagomi turns to see the flickering Tiger standing next to her, arms crossed. Baring his teeth and forming an unsettling grin, he sits down next to her in the field.</p><p>“Told you we would,” she says, returning her gaze to the celebrating Sunbeams. All the other pitchers are sprinting onto the field, save Sandoval Crossing, who slowly approaches. Their wrinkled cheeks are wet with tears that Nagomi has never seen shed before.</p><p>Ren stretches, tail flattening the grass around them. “You should join them,” he rumbles, following Nagomi’s gaze.</p><p>“I’m good,” she says. “I’m the aloof, calm headed one. Can’t ruin my image.”</p><p>Ren’s laugh shakes his entire form. “Sure you are.”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>The two of them watch as more and more join in. The newer Tigers seem hesitant, but eventually almost their entire team is in the pile. </p><p>“This was the outcome you wanted, wasn’t it?” Nagomi asks Ren without turning her head.</p><p>“Yes,” Ren says. </p><p>“Why fight so hard, then?”</p><p>Ren looks to the sky, Sun 2 burning high above. It looks the same as the first… but he, and everyone else, knows it isn’t. The game has changed, as it always had. </p><p>The league was shuffled. Good and Evil became Wild and Mild. The Tigers and the Beams were separated with only a rare game between them. A pitcher returned from the dead, and claimed many others in payment. Cosmic forces rose and fell. Players were trapped in endless confinement. The Tacos sacrificed their own to save others the same fate. The Jazz Hands and the Crabs fought a god, and lost. The honored dead — the best of the league — emerged from the Hall of Flame and slew the god once and for all. The Crabs ascended, departing the league forever, with the Lift taking their place. More powerful entities appeared, and promised changes beyond what anyone could imagine.</p><p>And yet, they played on. One last season, before the league leapt into the next unknown. One last chance for the championship before the Grand Siesta. No incinerations, no feedback. Just the teams, playing with everything they have, as they always had.</p><p>“For those we left behind,” Ren finally says. “Our victories are won through sacrifice. If they died, just for us to not give it our all... well, what would they have died for?”</p><p>“Mm,” Nagomi says. Her human eye is closed, while the many eyes on the left side of her face continue to scan the field. The roiling shadow is calm, calmer than Ren has seen it before. </p><p>“I like to think you would have done the same,” Ren says. “I know we differ in philosophy, but I know the Sunbeams. And I knew the — those that are gone. Some — some I knew well.”</p><p>Nagomi cracks open an eye and looks at him, but the Tiger is facing away.</p><p>“And I know why they played. I know they held that same fire in their hearts that the Tigers bring to the field every single game,” he says. “And I like to think you would have honored that as well.”</p><p>Nagomi looks at her team, eyes jumping between them all. Faces she thinks of as new, that have been with the Sunbeams most of their career. Faces she thinks of as old, hugging the new and sharing in their joy. Tear-streaked faces that she’s seen before in twisted agony, unshackled and sharing in unrestrained mirth. </p><p>“Maybe,” she says.</p><p>Ren looks back to her, then to their teams.</p><p>“You will. When the time comes. Whether we’re right behind you, or you’re following us up,” he says.</p><p>Nagomi is silent.</p><p>“I’m going to go join them,” Ren says, after a pause. He stands up, the half-shadow from his hulking form falling over Nagomi as the sun fights through the projection.</p><p>Nagomi lets out a long breath and rises as well.</p><p>“Alright,” she says. “Let’s go.”</p>
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